Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Georgia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tom Boy,
Robert Hood,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Glambeats Corp.,
Procol Harum,
Fluxion,
Eden Ahbez,
The Blues Magoos,
Quadrant,
UT,
Bill Wells,
Todd Rundgren,
Dave Gahan,
World's Most,
Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Prince Buster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zero Boys,
Mr. Review,
Lucky Dragons,
a-ha,
Tears for Fears,
Mars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Duran Duran,
The Real Kids,
Alison Limerick,
ABC,
Sam Rivers,
Stereo Dub,
Unrelated Segments,
The Busters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moleskins,
Brass Construction,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amon Düül,
Robert Wyatt,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Standells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Rekid,
Masters at Work,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.